Doesn’t everybody have “that friend(s)” – the one(s) that whenever you’re around them you always manage to get yourself into some kind of a stupid mess, or at least wake up asking yourself ‘Why in the world did we ______ last night’ (if you can remember it at all)?
No? Just me? I don’t believe you.
L & Sh are my go-to recipe for disaster counterparts. Now that we’re all grow’d up and mature and stuff sheer chaos happens a little less frequently, but I can always count on these two procuring a good time (and a rough morning). (B knows this and always cringes a little when I say I’m going out with them)
|From the infamous Summer ’05|
|Heckling at the Tribe game|
|A mid-semester reunion in BW|
|The night of many casualties in BG|
|The Eve of The Statue Climbing|
|ANTM and Beer Pong Table Runeth|
|Last Hurrah in L-wood (ie, L insists
we go to a gay bar) ((we do not))
|The Last Supper
You may be wondering why I’m sharing this with you. My plan is not convince you I’m some crazy lunatic party animal – Quite the contrary, actually. Life these days has settled down to a quiet stir, full of Friday movie nights and early Sunday morning runs. Like any other living, breathing, midwesterner (at heart), I still enjoy a beer or two (or five) now and then, but my days of case races and day drinking seem to be behind me.
…Or so I thought.
There’s a very large, potentially disastrous storm brewing over the Great Lakes right now, and it’s targeted to hit SoCal Wednesday afternoon. (If there are any weatherpeople reading, shush, I know that’s not how it works)
No, it’s not L & Sh. We had our fun when I was home a few weeks ago, and their West Coast trip is brewing somewhere on the horizon. I’m talking about something even bigger. It’s Hurricane EB, and it scares the shit out of me. I’m actually building a storm shelter as we speak.
You met EB way back when at the Cleveland Marathon where she so graciously drug her hungover ass out of her apartment 2 blocks away to see me collapse across the finish line.
Similar situations involving states of “hungover ass” and “collapse”ing will undoubtedly play a part in this trip, but there will be no marathon running. Hurricane EB is coming full force with the promise of Happy Hours, day-long wine tours, and late-late nights. I’m excited, in a very please-don’t-let-me-end-up-in-the-ER kind of way.
So here’s to my first Hurricane on the west coast, and the hopes that B still loves me after dealing with the aftermath.
|House Party D-town #1
ie The One With The Dancing
I’m Alerting the National Weather Service. Keep the Soon-To-Be fam in your thoughts until this storm passes.